Sacrifice
by Virgil Eco
Summary: A short monograph about John based on trailers for the second season


**_Sacrifice_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: No profit is being made. No copyright infringements intended._

_Author's note: This short piece is based on one of the trailers for the upcoming second season. It's also based on statements from the crew and cast that great character changes are going to occur in the first episode. This is more of a short monograph, rather than a plot based piece. Constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy._

* * *

You groan as you lift your head. Blood trickles down the side of your face, down onto the floor and congealing into a small pool. As you move, a sharp pain indicates that you've broken your arm. Your neck is sore as hell, and the rest of your body feels like you've been hit by a bus. Close enough.

The world is tilted upside down. The disorientation passes as you realise your predicament. Your mother was driving through the canals at break-neck speed, trying to get away. Then _she_ came and smashed your car. Now your four-wheel is lying on its roof in the middle of broad daylight.

You look over at your mum. She's unconscious. You start to shake her desperately with your uninjured arm, trying to wake her. You have to get away. She groans as she starts to come round.

The whirring of servos distracts you for a moment. You look up. There she is. Cameron Phillips. The machine sent back by you in future to protect you in this time. Her gait is slow, laboured. Her face bears the marks of the explosion but, you can't help but notice, it doesn't mar her beauty. Neither does her face reveal any emotion – no remorse, no pity, no regret.

She's limping towards you with the same determination she displays when she protects you.

Except now she's trying to kill you.

For some reason, this fact doesn't disturb you. You're so used to the fact that Skynet is trying to kill you that it's almost commonplace for you. No, it's more the fact that _Cameron _is trying to kill you.

You've lost her as a friend.

* * *

"Why did you come after me?"

John and Cameron had been standing at the entrance to the kitchen, watching Charlie stitch up Derek. Charlie had said that John's uncle would be fine, but did this not lessen the boy's anxiety.

He turned round to look at Cameron. "What?"

"When I was engaged with the T-888, you tried to save me. Why?"

"What the hell has this got to do with anything?" John snapped. His uncle was dying on the table in front of them, and Cameron chose now to ask him about his moment of stupidity.

"Everything," she replied. "Statistically the speaking, the chances of you surviving an encounter head-on with a T-888, even assisted by your mother and Reese, were extremely slim. Yet you tried to save me. Logically speaking, it was an unwise decision."

"No shit," John muttered, turning his face away from Cameron.

"Why did you do it?"

"You wouldn't understand. It's a human thing."

"Is it because you're afraid of losing me?"

This caught John's attention. He turned back round to stare at her. She merely stared back at him. "What did you say?"

"Your future self told me what you were like in this time."

"Yeah?" John was slightly peeved off with his future self for revealing so much about himself to her. "What else did he tell you?"

"He told me that you were afraid of losing people, even machines. He told me of his attachment to the terminator sent before me. He said that when he was younger, he tried his hardest to save everyone. I witnessed this behaviour when you tried to save Jordon. Even though saving her may have led to Cromartie discovering our location, you were still determined to try."

"Well, I'm just that kind of guy, aren't I?" John spat back. Her attitude disgusted him, but not as much as the attitude of his future self. "I'm not the kind of bastard who just leaves people to die."

"No, you're not. But you will be. To become John Connor the world needs, you're going to have to learn how to sacrifice. You know when and where sacrifices can be made, but you're still not willing to make those sacrifices yet. You need to learn how to do that." John stared at her, shocked by her little speech. Where the hell had she gotten that from?

"Well, I'm not ready to cross that bridge yet," John said coldly.

She nodded. "I know. But you will."

* * *

She's not the same person at the moment now. Her chip has been damaged and she's reverted back to her original default mode – terminate you. Somehow, the illusion you've been creating in your mind that Cameron is more than just a machine bursts like a bubble.

But you still don't know if you could destroy her if you're given the chance.

You snap your attention to the present as your mother groans to the left of you. She turns her head feebly from side to side.

"John, run," she manages to whisper.

What would you do? What would be your choice? Your mother is lying on the ground, pinioned under your over-turned jeep. She's bleeding profusely and, no matter what you do, you can't free her. The pain is evident in her eyes and her voice.

You can't leave her. Chances are Cameron will torture and kill her to get to you. You can't leave your own mother to that kind of fate.

"But you have to, John," your mother says through clenched teeth. You must have spoken aloud without realising. "Go. Run."

"No, we've got to stick together."

"John, you gotta go now."

"No …"

"Go! Now!"

* * *

"Why are we going to save your mother?" the Terminator asked.

"Because we have to," a John replied. "Now step on it!"

The bike roared down the darkened road. The blood pounded in John's ears, desperation and fear. He prayed with every cell of his body that the T-1000 hadn't reached his mother yet.

"She's not one of our mission priorities," the Terminator repeated.

"I'm not going to argue with you about this," the young boy snapped, holding tightly onto his protector.

"If she's so important to you, why didn't your future self program her as a mission priority?"

Silence answered the machine's question. It was a valid question. Why hadn't the future John ensured his mother's survival by programming the terminator to protect her too? Didn't he care for her in the future? Was he that kind of person?

"I don't care what my future self has done. I can't lose her," John replied softly. He paused. "I have to … I have to let her know."

"Sometimes sacrifices are strategically expedient," the Terminator replied. "It's one of the reasons why you're the leader of the Resistance. Your men are willing to die for you." The Terminator craned his head round to regard the young boy with his emotionless stare. "And you're willing to let them die for you."

A chill passed through John Connor as the two sped towards his mother.

* * *

No Uncle Bob to help you this time, though. No human panzer to help you get your mother out of this mess.

You look back at your mum and you resume yanking on her seat belt. You try more forcefully, tears of frustration rolling down your cheeks. What do you do?

She grips your forearm with her freehand, staying your hand. She looks at you pleadingly. "John," she says softly.

You can't leave her. She's the only chance of a real family you have left. Derek's missing, probably dead. He didn't come back from his walk in the park this morning, and you assume the worst. Now your mum is about to throw herself in the way of the terminator to protect you.

Just like your father did.

* * *

"Tell me about dad."

Her hands stopped cleaning the M-16. The young woman turned around to regard her five year old son. Lacking toy trucks, he had been using empty magazines instead, running them through the dirt of the Peruvian jungle as he waited for his mother.

The mother walked over and sat down cross-legged next to her son. "What do you want to know?"

"How did he die?"

She sighed. "He died a hero, John. He died protecting me from the terminator. Protecting both of us."

The boy didn't respond for a moment. "I wish he didn't have to die."

His mother looked at him with tenderness she didn't usually reveal. "I know. So do I. But he had to."

How could she tell her son that, in the future, he would have to make the sacrifice of sending his own father back in time, to die so that he, John Connor, saviour of mankind, could be born? She wondered what kind of man her son would be in the future, would have to become. He seemed so different to the John Connor sitting before her now. Even though he was young, his mother recognised the deep compassion and kindness her son possessed. Her son from the future seemed so cold, so distant, so calculative. More machine than human.

No, she couldn't tell him today. Not today. Let him have at least one more day of childhood. She looked back at her child.

She tousled her son's hair and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "One day, you'll learn that some sacrifices are worth making."

* * *

You've lost everyone you've really cared about: Cameron, Uncle Bob, your father, Derek. Now you're going to your mother too.

She was right, though, wasn't she? Some times, no matter what you feel, you have to make the sacrifice. Even if it means sacrificing your own mother, or those you care for. There are greater forces at work, more than just a mother and son trying to save one another.

Your mother's eyes tell you how much she wants to tell you. That she loves you. That she wishes it wasn't like this. That she hoped she could see you grow old. There's also a shared understanding. It's not just that you have to save your life.

You're saving the future of mankind. If you die, the human race dies. That's the burden you bear.

At that moment, you feel anything but the future leader of mankind. You're afraid, weak. Terrified. But, unbeknownst to you, you've just crossed that bridge. You're no longer John Connor, the brooding teenager riling against the world and Fate.

You're John Connor, the man who does what needs to be done.

A man willing to make sacrifices.

With a quick squeeze of your mother's hand, you let go. You rise to your feet. And you turn away. You leave her behind.

You limp towards your destiny.


End file.
